Cloud Strife (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
findmyownreason) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
onepassingnight2012-04-09 12:26 pm
findmyownreason) wrote in onepassingnight2012-04-09 12:26 pm
.006 These Woods Are Lovely, Dark and Deep
Once upon a time, for all good stories start with once upon a time, there was a great forest. It stretched on for days, for countries, for unclaimed fairy tale after unclaimed fairy tale in fact. This was the Great Wood, the Olde Wood, the Place Where All Things Start. This was the forest of all the old tales and it will ever be, until men are legends that dogs tell each other around the fires at night. Everything lives in the depths of these woods and nothing at all. Be careful what you whisper when you go into the dark for even the trees are listening and stories have a way of happening here whether you want them to or not.
Deep in the darkness, in one of the less traveled spots, there lives a wolf. The Wolf, if you will. For he is the Big Bad, the Howler at the Door, the Winter Wolf, the Devourer, the Nightmare That Creeps In Windows, the Child's Warning and, occasionally, the Huffer and Puffer, though he's taken to outsourcing the last one after one particularly embarrassing incident involving a hay allergy. He's the wise talking beast or the prehistoric feral fear. He is, in short, whatever your story needs him to be.
Don't expect him to be particularly pleased or even helpful about it though. He's been doing this job for a while now and he's getting sick of getting yanked out of rolling in dead animals just so that he can trot his fuzzy butt over to make menacing, half-assed attempts at your basket of treats and God help you if he has to dress in old lady drag One More Time!
OOC: so. Here's Cloud to provide all your Big Bad Wolf TM needs. Or frankly, the forest isn't above dragging him in to take over any animal need. There appears to be a shortage of fairy animals going around at the moment, something about better paying jobs in Hollywood. Does your story need a talking bear? Suddenly you've got a snarky wolf as your guide. Your brothers got the mill and all you got was a cat? Well, it's a wolf now and it's not happy about having to wear boots or do all your work for you, you dolt. Need that straw spun into gold by morning? Looks like you're duck out of luck. Wolves can't spin, though he does a very impressive cats cradle if you give him enough yarn and tie the knots for him. Point being, if your fairy tale has an animal of any sort in it, you've now got a very grumpy wolf who can't say 'not interested' the way he'd really rather. And, of course, he's still here for all your big bad wolfish metaphorical needs as well.
Deep in the darkness, in one of the less traveled spots, there lives a wolf. The Wolf, if you will. For he is the Big Bad, the Howler at the Door, the Winter Wolf, the Devourer, the Nightmare That Creeps In Windows, the Child's Warning and, occasionally, the Huffer and Puffer, though he's taken to outsourcing the last one after one particularly embarrassing incident involving a hay allergy. He's the wise talking beast or the prehistoric feral fear. He is, in short, whatever your story needs him to be.
Don't expect him to be particularly pleased or even helpful about it though. He's been doing this job for a while now and he's getting sick of getting yanked out of rolling in dead animals just so that he can trot his fuzzy butt over to make menacing, half-assed attempts at your basket of treats and God help you if he has to dress in old lady drag One More Time!
OOC: so. Here's Cloud to provide all your Big Bad Wolf TM needs. Or frankly, the forest isn't above dragging him in to take over any animal need. There appears to be a shortage of fairy animals going around at the moment, something about better paying jobs in Hollywood. Does your story need a talking bear? Suddenly you've got a snarky wolf as your guide. Your brothers got the mill and all you got was a cat? Well, it's a wolf now and it's not happy about having to wear boots or do all your work for you, you dolt. Need that straw spun into gold by morning? Looks like you're duck out of luck. Wolves can't spin, though he does a very impressive cats cradle if you give him enough yarn and tie the knots for him. Point being, if your fairy tale has an animal of any sort in it, you've now got a very grumpy wolf who can't say 'not interested' the way he'd really rather. And, of course, he's still here for all your big bad wolfish metaphorical needs as well.
no subject
The look on his face makes it all worth while and Cloud can't help it if his jaws part so his tongue can loll from the side of his mouth in pleasure. Next to his legs, his tail thumps contentedly. It's always satisfying watching someone else deal with being caught in one of these Stories. Wolf Cloud's got a bit more experience with this kind of thing than grumpy grandpa though and he knows it's going to take both of them to fix this. So he waits until Cid gets done before answering. There's even a little shift in the way he's sitting, almost as if he was cocking a hip, one paw sliding forward just a little in front of the others before he begins to expound.
"We must be trapped in a Story. Probably a Children's Story. The Story wants us to do whatever it is that it needs so that it can finish." A pause. The oboe chooses to honk again. "The music is new."
no subject
The violins swell in response to his statement, and he shoots a glare at the trees above them. Where he's decided the violin playing ninjas are hiding. "The music is donkey poo, that's what it is."
About ready to give up on the whole cursing bit, he crosses his arms as he gives the wolf an expectant look. "So, what, we gotta finish the story? I ain't got a clue on how this ends."
no subject
It was really ridiculous how much trouble he got in for doing what came naturally to him. Eating.
"I probably need to swallow you whole so you can cut yourself back out with the duck."
He manages it entirely straight faced, which isn't that hard for him even without the wolf version of it. Not that he's for a second going to not chew but the old guy doesn't need to know that. His shoulders hunch, suspiciously like a shrug.
"Or we can find someone else to give the story to. There's got to be a miller's son somewhere around here."